


gerpepe

by sky_blue_hightops



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Cats, Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Idk what happened, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), This was supposed to be a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_blue_hightops/pseuds/sky_blue_hightops
Summary: cat misplacement crimes.
Relationships: Connor & Chris Miller (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor, Tina Chen & Chris Miller, Tina Chen & Connor, Tina Chen & Gavin Reed
Comments: 7
Kudos: 97





	gerpepe

Tina's eyes narrowed. "I cannot. CANNOT lose it. If it dies, _I_ die. If it sets one ADORABLE little foot one INCH outside these precinct doors, I have to turn in my badge, capische?!" She tore at her hair, whirling on Connor with wide eyes. "We are in _dire_ straits and if I go down, you're all going down with me."

Connor blinked from where he sat upright at his desk, rubbing the hem of his sleeve nervously. "May I...May I ask what 'it' is?"

The words were barely out of his mouth when Tina took two sharp steps forward and slammed a handful down on his desk. A can of Friskies rolled from her grasp and toppled with a quiet clank against the metal surface. The bright green Post-It note half-unstuck from the can's top bore only a simple, ominous warning: "good luck". The cramped handwriting was none other than Detective Reed's. Connor swallowed. "A can...of cat food?"

Tina heaved a sigh and rubbed at her eyes. "Gavin trusted me with his cat for the rest of the week. A repayment of a debt. I can't pawn it off to a neighbor because it's _my_ debt to pay. My pride is on the line here, Connor."

It was a...suitable explanation. The detective was out in Lansing for a conference and wouldn't return until late Friday. "And you can't let it remain in your home during the day because...?"

She leveled him with a look like grey rebar, shucking her sleeve up to reveal a swatch of angry red scratches. "Separation anxiety." Connor wondered if she meant her or the cat, and wisely decided some questions were better left unasked. He opened his mouth for the next logical inquiry. Tina waved an exasperated hand in his direction. 

"I can't keep it in a crate unless you wanna deal with the loudest yowling in Detroit until we clock out." She exhaled with a groan, landing her forehead on Connor's desk with a solid thonk. "He sure does like screamers, son of a-" Shouting broke out in the break room. Tina groaned even louder and hauled herself to her feet, looking seconds away from leaving whichever unlucky soul had picked a fight with a cat to their untimely demise. "I'll be back. This isn't over, Connor, you better help me out because if I have to wrangle a cat by myself until Friday I WILL lose my mind-" The shouting got louder. "Okay! Okay- hold on-"

Connor watched her disappear into the break room, wondering still how a quiet(er) cat loose in the station was better than a loud one secure in a crate, before sighing and turning back to his case file.

* * *

He was metaphorically elbow deep in a case file and literally elbow deep in a box of evidence when a ginger-streaked blur darted out from the break room, shooting past several desks and skittering to a stop in the middle of the bullpen. Connor blinked out of his programs. They made eye contact.

The android blinked slowly. Very slowly.

The cat settled on its haunches, swiped a paw over one ear, and returned the blink.

Connor turned back to his programs. If it wanted to approach, it would. And if he cracked open the top of the Friskies can a little, well. It was bound to get opened eventually. If he learned anything from his Hank dealings, it was that a little bribery went a long distance.

Half an hour later found Tina swinging to a stop at the doorway back to the bullpen, anxious eyes scanning each desk before landing on a ginger ball of fuzz perched on the shoulders of one specific detective. "Of COURSE it only likes him."

* * *

Hours later and it had relocated to the rafters, tail lashing as it glared menacingly down at its serfs, yowling displeasure and general malice. Hank grimaced and refused to look up, instead gripping his monitor with enough pressure to be audible. "Will someone make that cat shut the hell up before I get to it and skin it??"

"As you know, Hank, there is more than one way to skin a cat."

"Connor that is _not_ what I meant by learning idioms."

* * *

Day 2 of emergency catsitting dawned bright and unrelenting on Detroit's best and brightest. Hank slumped in, eyes darting back and forth, on the lookout for the tiny dictator. Connor trailed after him, also looking, but Tina figured it came from a place of "wanna see cute cat???", not so much the lieutenant's "if that cat sets foot near me I'm quitting my job". Chris emerged from the break room with coffee (angel. angel!) and a smile and a cat scratch on his hand. "One more day. Just one more."

"I take your steadfast optimism and I hold it close to my chest, Chris." She practically inhaled the coffee, then slammed her mug down. A splash landed on her thumb and she sucked it up. "And I've got a plan for if we lose it again. I did my research."

Chris tipped half his coffee back in one throw and scratched at his head. "Man, don't jinx us." Desperation tinged his voice. "I've. I've _seen_ things..."

An hour later found Tina sporting three new scratches, sitting on the kitchen counter, and stress-eating the leftovers she'd meant for lunch. Chris had his face hidden in his hands, pressed to the counter next to her leg. She rubbed at his shoulder sympathetically as he mumbled. "You jinxed us, dude."

"Hey don't call ME out like that, at least I _tried_ going after it-"

"You grabbed the TAIL, Tina! Rule number one of having a cat??? Don't do that??"

Tina thwacked him on the shoulder and tugged her phone from her back pocket. While she was the best best friend a person could have, she was still yet another mindless follower of modern technology, so she didn't have Gavin's number memorized. Chris rested his chin on her elbow. "Who's... nerd, cat emoji, peach emoji, onion emoji, middle finger emoji?"

She shot him a flat look and pressed 'Call'. It rang for five seconds before picking up. "Hey man. Hypothetically-" She grimaced and stabbed the volume down button on her phone, just in case. "Hypothetically, if I couldn't, like, find your cat-"

The voice on the other side came out garbled with anger. "Tina if you lost my cat there will LITERALLY BE HELL TO PAY-"

* * *

"Okay, big boy. Time for me to put all my cat behavior R&D to practice." Tina held both his hands in a vice grip, looking simultaneously terrified and deadly calm. "Commence Opurration: Cat Pillow."

"How- did you just make a cat pun out loud??" Connor tugged at his hands. They didn't budge. "Tina-"

"You WILL lay down on the floor and wait for that devil cat to sniff your android body out like catnip. You WILL NOT move unless there is a feline within arm's reach. If we do NOT locate this cat, I WILL blame this entire situation on you and you will have to face judgement for your malicious cat misplacement crimes, Connor."

"But I have work-"

"CRIMES, CONNOR."

Ten minutes later and Connor blinked out of a light rest mode, staring up at scuffed shoes and a familiar leather jacket. "Hello, Hank."

The older detective pinched at his nose. "Do I want to know."

"Unlikely. But if you happen to spot a ginger tabby-"

Hank immediately drew away, muttering curses and shaking his head. Connor had never seen such a complex combination of fear and horror cross the man's face before. "I'm allergic to cats."

"You are not, Hank."

"I'm allergic to THAT cat."

Yellow light bounced off the smudged floor by Connor's temple. "Fair. Can you pass me another report? And my jacket?"

The jacket landed on his face. The tablet landed on his chest. "Thank you, Hank." The grey fabric muffled his words, and he bunched it up under his head. “If you need me, I will be-”

“On the floor because you’re scared of an officer half a foot shorter than you?”

“...Maybe.”

“It’s okay, kid.” Hank eyed Tina’s empty desk nervously. Chatter rang out from the kitchen and his face glazed over slightly, as if diving deep into memories tinged with horror. “Me too.”

* * *

“ _Hank_.”

Heavy metal rattled quietly from Hank’s headphones. Connor frowned, but could do nothing else to get his attention. “Hank. Please.”

Another pair of legs crossed the top of his field of vision. “Chris, I require your assistance.”

“Nuh uh. You can’t make me wrestle with that thing for a million bucks. Have fun being the favorite, bud.” Chris grinned sympathetically. “Cat paralysis. It gets the best of us.”

Connor glanced down at the lump of fur stretched happily across his chest. “I do not believe this is conducive for clocking out in half an hour.”

Chris kneeled and motioned as if to ruffle Connor’s hair, but the little demon making a nest out of the space on top of Connor’s thirium pump hissed lightly. “Well...you have half an hour to figure _that_ out?” He rocked gently back on his heels before rising to his feet. “Um. At least it’s quiet now? Good luck, I guess. I’ve got a...thing.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t leave me here like this. Chris.”

“A thing. I’ve got a thing.”

“Chris, come back.” The squeak of shoes walking away from him. Connor exhaled slightly in displeasure, reluctant to disturb the cat with his synthetic breathing. He gave it a few obligatory skritches on the head. “You are becoming a real nuisance, you know that?”

“Could say the same about you,” Hank piped up without even taking his eyes from his screen, both headphone ears still firmly blasting obnoxious levels of electric guitar.

“Hank I _swear_ -”

* * *

Connor stood at the entrance to the station, a bundle of ginger contentedly snoozing and limp in his arms as the sunrise broke out over the horizon. He had been held up overnight with casework, Tina with trying to get the damn cat back in its crate. “Tina is a manipulative coward. She is also fast asleep at your desk.”

If looks could kill, Connor would be nothing but a smudge of ashes on the ground. Gavin, at least, had the decency to thrust one hand out to demand possession of the cat. Connor did not hesitate to scoop the cat into Gavin’s waiting arms. “Tell Fowler I’m going to drop both of those two off.” He slung the cat sloppily over his shoulders, growling. “The _one day_ I get here on time…” Connor watched as he cut directly over to his desk, depositing a bundle of files by his monitor before nudging at Tina’s shoulder. Satisfied that Gavin could wrangle his cat and his sleeping friend, Connor made his way up to the captain’s office.

Fowler barely looked up at his entrance, shuffling a few pages. “Is it finally leaving?”

“Affirmative, sir. Detective Reed will also be escorting Officer Chen home.”

“Let him know I want him back quickly, I want to review the files on his Murkson case last week.” Fowler finally set the sheet aside, face arranged in neutral unamusement. “Good riddance to the cat.”

“I’m fairly certain finding it in here sleeping with you yesterday speaks otherwise.” Connor replied confidently, allowing a hint of a smile even as he stood up straight. “Have you much experience with cats, Captain?”

“You’re on thin ice, young man.”

“Affirmative, sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you know you KNOW okay


End file.
